Behind The Dumpster
by Padfoot Princess
Summary: Some freaky stuff happens behind the dumpster. H/R, H/H. Funny, and mushy. Please read!


"This is stupid

"This is stupid. Ron, _where_ are we going?" Hermione's voice, unusually shrill and whiny, broke the silence of the night of the full moon. She was walking stubbornly behind Ron and the only sound was their sneakers flapping against the concrete. He was eager and grinning, she was less enthused and tired. 

Ron had shaken her awake only moments before from her bed. She had screamed, but he had pressed an English white finger to her lips. She bit it, causing him to yelp yet smile painfully. Though not at all happy about it, he had convinced her to follow him outside, with the promise of a box of chocolate frogs next Hogsmeade trip. Ron, more than anyone, knew Hermione could be bought over easily with chocolate. He had done it many times before. Begrudgingly, Hermione had pulled on her robe and shoved dainty feet into Nike tennis shoes. And now they were speedily walking towards-what? Hermione had no idea. Ron, it seemed apparent, did. 

"We're almost there, Hermione, it's just up ahead!" He called back eagerly. Hermione's tone was more than a little blasé. 

"I can't wait." She replied blandly.

With a few more steps (bouncy and energetic from Ron, lethargic and bored from Hermione) Ron came to an unexpected halt. Hermione ran right into him and complained, crossly. "Ron, will you watch were you are going?" Ron seemingly hadn't heard her. "This is it!" He yelped instead. 

Hermione frowned. There was nothing to be seen in front of them save for a dirty, scum-infested, dank Dumpster. She tapped her foot impatiently, hand on hip. However, before she could do anything else, Ron grabbed her hand and began running toward the Dumpster. Hermione screamed and almost tripped from surprise. With impeccable maneuvering, he veered them to the right of the garbage disposal and behind it with the speed of lightning. He stopped just as suddenly, and Hermione didn't thwack into him because she had finally come to expect it. Which in it was kind of scary. Hermione swatted a piece of hair away from her face, revealing a scowl.

"Hermione." Ron purred, savoring each syllable. His voice was sweet and enticing.

"Ron." Hermoine's tone couldn't be more different. She said it with annoying obviousness and a hint of sarcasm. Ron had given up trying to keep her hand in his because she had flailed it mercilessly, twisting his fingers and her own until he let go in defeat. He looked exasperated yet anticipating. Without further warning, he stuck his head forward awkwardly, bending his neck the slightest bit to reach her face, and, with heaps of inexperience, began kissing her. There was nothing for it. He held her tightly, maybe from nervousness, maybe from fear she would run off. Not that she wasn't attempting it-she was squirming under his grasp but kissing him back for lack of something better to do. After several moments she relaxed, though she would occasionally twitch. When he released her, Hermione's position couldn't have been more different than before. She now had her arms wrapped around his neck and she could feel his breath and the rapid beating of his heart. Ron was grinning like an idiot; Hermione's lips were curved only the tiniest bit. And than-_she_ kissed _him_. Ron was ecstatic. Hermione looked it, though she was known to hide her true feelings quite well. 

About and hour later, Ron's hair was sticking up from were she had raked her fingers through it, and Hermione's lip gloss was smeared not only over her face but also on his. Bodies tingling they broke apart. Ron could make out Hermione's glinting azule eyes even in the darkness and she could see his hair like a flashlight, lighthouse, or otherwise beacon in the night. Hermione quickly wiped spit off her features, trying to look pleased by the fact that Ron's saliva had become her face mask for the night. He picked her up and carried her toward the castle the way a groom does a bride.

The next morning Ron hurtled toward the Great Hall to meet Hermione. He hadn't slept at all yet was oddly energetic all the same. Harry did not question his friend's quirky behavior, he just figured it was one of those things. However, upon reaching the cavernous mess hall, Hermione was nowhere in sight. Ron frantically searched for her and Harry, unbeknownst, sat down and began to have a piece of buttered toast. He assumed Ron was sitting next to him as always and began speaking to him.

"You know Ron, you should try this toast. I think the elves used different bread today, it tastes better. Remember that one last week? That nutty, wheat bread? Did you like that Ron? I didn't, this kind is much better. Although the one a few days ago, with just a dash of honey flavor was quite pleasant as well. What do you think? The butter is a bit sour, I believe I prefer margarine but if it's the best they can do. Do have a spot of pumpkin juice Ron, its extra sweet today. Keep clear of the scrambled eggs I hear they taste like water and cheese this morning…" He went on and on in this fashion for a quite some time. Ron, whom was still turning the Hall upside down in maniacal search for Hermione, didn't hear one word. Quietly she had slipped into the hall and took the seat to the left of Harry. Ron wasn't aware of this, and she kissed Harry on the cheek.

"Hey, Harry." She whispered.

"Morning, Sweetie." Harry replied, giving her a quick kiss back. It was common knowledge that Harry and Hermione were a couple but Ron was in the dark.

Hermione leaned over her plate of waffles and Harry gently wiped a strand of hair away from her lovely-to Harry and Ron, anyway-complexion. She turned and smiled at him. Their eyes met. Just than Ron strode over to Hermione and without further ado began making out with her. He didn't hold on to her and she jerked away immediately and bitch slapped him. 

"Hermione-what?" Ron stuttered.

"I'm going out with Harry you perv!" Hermione cried out. Harry jumped up and stood in front of her defensively. His girlfriend was more important to him than his best friend, believe it or not. Hermione, however, seemed to want to fight her own battles because she pushed him to the side to face Ron. Her expression was set and his was hurt.

"Hermione, what about last night? You kissed me!" Ron yelled. Hermione snorted.

"As if! I only did it because it was fun. Besides, after a while it was a total slobberfest!" And to prove her point she turned right back around and began kissing Harry. Quite a few people in the hall were watching and started clapping. Ron looked aghast. He spun on his heel and ran out of the hall. Hermione, undaunted, didn't release or loosen her clamp on Harry though it wouldn't have mattered. Harry, unlike Hermione the night before (at least at first), didn't squirm. Fred and George whistled and catcalls could be heard. It went on for some time. Abruptly, Hermione opened her eyes, screamed, and jumped about a foot. People around the hall were looking at her, confused, or sniggering because they figured out her reason for being frightened. A large, hairy spider was crawling across the table toward Harry and her, and she had leapt into his arms in terror. Acting like the manly man boyfriend, he squished the spider with a napkin and held it triumphantly in the air. Hermione quickly dislodged herself from his arms and stood up, blushing furiously. Harry took a sweeping bow. More applause, this time, humorous. Draco Malfoy didn't join in-like the rest of the Slytherin table.

Later that day, Hermione and Harry were positioned rather close together at their Charms table. Ron was several rows behind, disgruntled. Professor Flitwick was giving them the period to practice their Repairing spells. Hermione leaned, if possible, even closer to Harry and whispered.

"Who's your favorite Hermione?" She said in a singsong voice. Harry hesitated just long enough to enrich the moment and answered.

"You, pumpkin." 

"Do you love me?" Hermione asked in the same bubbly voice. Onlookers groaned and rolled their eyes, having witnessed this scene so many times before.

"Yes, I love you, Hunnybun." Harry echoed.

"Will you give me a Mercedes Benz?" Hermione continued.

"What do you want a car for?" Questioned a puzzled Harry.

"I dunno. I just heard some girl say it." Hermione was still using her blonde, airhead voice. Harry, evidently, perceived this as cute. Their classmates were sickened. Ron pretended not to be informed. Professor Flitwick must have been in lala land because he made no move to break the two apart. 

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Ron was still fuming over the Hermione's behavior and Harry hardly regarded it; he was so infatuated with her. Hermione was in the three-foot unobservant bubble she had acquired when she first started going out with Harry. It was as if Hermione was a whole new girl, no longer the smart, precocious, kind one they once knew. She had taken on-there was no other word for it-_Barbie_ nature. She was light and as emotional and caring as a mannequin was. Unless, of course, you counted how much she thought about Harry. That was about all the thinking she did. Her grades suffered, her friends drifted away from her, and she was no longer the numero uno teachers' pet. Yet she took no note-all she needed was Harry, he was her only necessity and school and her social life were just little things she could blow off at will. 

Late that night, Harry was lounging on a lumpy armchair by the roaring fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione was stretched out over his lap and he was kissing her neck as she smiled in that I'm-a-Queen-so-treat-me-like-one kind of way. Other girls, most of them in truth, were glaring at her and all she did in reply was to bat her long eyelashes innocently. Chatter was soft, so, when Ron strode quickly up to the small group by the hearth, all heads turned toward him. The only sound was the heavy, angry breathing from Ron. He was shooting daggers at Harry and Hermione and it was with a dangerous voice that he beckoned Hermione over to him. "I have to speak with Hermione." Plain as that. All eyes bored into his like lamps in the flickering firelight. He ignored them, instead stared directly at Hermione as she pouted at having to leave Harry. She walked with an irresistible puppy-dog face to the place where Ron was standing. Harry made a motion to get up and follow them as they stepped into the hall, but Fred Weasley lay a cautioning arm on his. Harry relaxed. 

Ron led Hermione all the way to an empty classroom on the fourth floor of the castle before halting to explain why. He took a deep breath, than spoke faintly. 

"Hermione, you don't belong with Harry. Trust me, Herm, he isn't your type. He's all macho bravado egotistical [though we all know that Harry is many things, an egomaniac is not among them] guy. You need a sensitive, understanding man. And there is one of them quite close by." 

You could practically see the wheels turning in Hermione's head-slowly. After a few moments pause, she replied, "Where?" 

Ron sighed. Hermione had transformed into a druid almost impossible to talk to. Although, Ron knew, was extremely easy to kiss. Ron, sensing her newly found ignorance, decided to walk her through this. He drew in another breath. "Harry-he isn't the guy for you." 

Hermione blinked slowly at Ron and cocked her head to one side, that familiar pout once again upon her face. The cranks-even more pitifully now-processed the words and, after an even longer interval, she spoke. "Yes he is. I'm going out with him." She said this with the air of one speaking to children, having to repeat themselves over and over for them to understand. 

Ron rubbed his fingers over throbbing temples. "Hermione, what I'm trying to tell you is this. Before you went out with Harry, you were the most intelligent, clever, bright girl I knew. That is what attracted me to you. And now your-your this. Like those-whatchamacallits at the muggle schools-chairleaders. You have to find you again, Hermione. I can help you do that." Ron didn't wait for a reply before kissing Hermione on the lips. Not the lust-filled kiss the night before. A true kiss, a perfect kiss. It was than that an astounding thing happened-even for Hogwarts. Hermione snapped out of her blonde mode. She became Hermione, book Hermione, study Hermione, on-top-of-everything Hermione. When the kiss ended-not long after, because fairy tale kisses are always short and sweet-Hermione hugged Ron gratefully. Not as a lover-but as a friend. Ron sensed this. They broke apart and Ron looked confusedly in Hermione's eyes. "Hermione, don't you love me?" He asked.

Hermione bit her lip-the way she always did when she thought hard. "Ron", she said at last, "I love you, but only as a friend. Although I could never bear to part with you I just as much could never be with you. These past weeks, when I was with Harry, I was-" Hermione hesitated. "I was under a spell. Draco and some of the other Slytherins put it on me to make me look dumb so they could look smart. Of course, they had Terry Boot, from Ravenclaw, make the potion for them." She rolled her eyes before taking up the story again. "Harry was bewitched as well. We both weren't ourselves-that was also part of the prank. The only thing that could break it was having someone who loved you-in the deepest meaning of the word-kiss you. You were that one Ron. And I am eternally sorrowful that I cannot bring you to bliss and return that love. For, trapped inside my own head, I realized something. I love Harry, Ron. Not the-what was it that you called him? -the macho, bravado Harry. Nicely put, Ron. No, not that. The past Harry. I love him, the way you love me. And I know, Ron, that he loves me back. Now I must kiss him, to break his enchantment, so we can at last, honestly, be together. I am so, so sorry Ron." 

Ron didn't understand. "But-you were just kissing him-why can't you be mine?" He pleaded. His copper eyes were wide. 

"When we kissed before, it was while we were both under the spell. Neither of us could really show feelings-though they were there, inside us. I believe that you realized that, Ron. It takes a wise, experienced wizard to see through masking spells to true emotions. I admire you for that." Hermione gazed at Ron, who finally seemed to be catching on. He nodded, than turned and walked, defeated out of the classroom. Hermione stayed still, mulling the conversation over in her head. 

Half an hour later, Hermione finally made her way back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Harry was still lying on the armchair, and the basic amount of people that had witnessed the previous events were still there as well. Hermione picked Harry up by the collar of his shirt and kissed him, once more, the way Prince Charming did the Sleeping Beauty, the way the other Prince Charming did Cinderella, the way the other Prince Charming did Rapunzel-well, you get the idea. When it was over, Harry, as well, was himself again. They embraced, and the whole of Gryffindor could see the spell had broken, and they cheered. Clapping, and whistling, and through it all, a red-haired, freckled someone could be seen applauding with the rest, smiling more broadly than anyone there. 

Two years later, an unusual event took place at Hogwarts. It was the day after the trio's graduation. Ron and Harry-indeed, Hermione and Ron-were closer than ever before, and Harry and Hermione were still the cutest couple Hogwarts had ever hosted. That bright, dewy morning, a young man and wife were married, just outside the hut belonging to one of the Hogwarts' teachers. The bride was stunning, with a petite figure, gleaming ochre hair and wide blue pupils. A narrow dress with a sweeping skirt and V-neck top clung to her, accenting her looks in the best of ways. Her groom was handsome, dark-haired with beautiful green eyes that sparkled. The best man stood proudly beside him, with flaming red hair and skin nearly tanned with freckles. When the ceremony was nearing a close, and the two kissed, magic was in the air. The birds sang, the sky was clear and everything was perfect. All through the crowd there was a standing ovation, with the best man standing out from all the rest in his joy. It was with smiling eyes that he presented the lovely bride with a single, lavender lily. 


End file.
